SARAH’S SADNESS.



There is a beach,
A pebbled beach,
And on the beach,
There is an up turned Boat,
Whilst at the Seagull,
Sarah  She Painted,
With Her mouth She Painted,
A window to view,
Confined in the Chair,
And dreaming all the time,
Of the Men that use to call,
Under a Starry Sky,
And a Sea to Guide ,

Now all there’s left,
Is old Tom,
Ginger and Blind,
For company he was,
Curled upon  his  Mistress bed,
When happy was he, 
Warm,
Sarah would Paint,
That same window view,
Dreaming all the time,
Of Strings of Pearls,
And the Men that use to call,
Under a Starry sky,
And a Sea to Guide,

For once She ’d  visit the  Sea,
On some tall and dark strangers  arm.
Now the beckoning call of the Sea,
Would visit her,
In Shells about, they’ed  lie,
Like some Winter’s depression ,
Grey and restless,
As the Seas,
As the  Winter Seas,
And a window to view,
The colours of her Pallet,
Dreaming all the time,
Of strings of Pearls,
And the Men that use to call,
Under a starry sky,
And a sea to guide.